


Perchance to Dream

by ruination_fangs



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: F/F, Nightmares, Polyamory, hurt/comfort without the hurt honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-30 07:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11458455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruination_fangs/pseuds/ruination_fangs
Summary: Velvet is no stranger to waking up scared. Eleanor and Magilou are no strangers to Velvet waking up scared, either.





	Perchance to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> For Tales of Femslash Week, Day 4 (Dreams)

It always starts with blood. The smell of it, or the taste of it, or her hands stained permanently, sickeningly red.

Sometimes it’s her own. Sometimes it’s not. Mostly it’s her family’s, and she can hear her brother’s voice, and Niko’s, and the corpses are piling up around her while everything she loves turns to ash. It’s awful to sit by and simply watch, but it’s worse not to. Her body moves as if on its own, and horror wars with satisfaction inside her when her claws rip through flesh. It’s wrong, and she enjoys it, craves it, hates herself for it, relishes in it-

Right up until the moment she jerks awake, gasping. The sheets fall away from her shoulders and she presses a hand to her chest, repulsed by the wet, clammy feel of her skin.

It’s sweat. Not blood. Not blood.

Still the room blurs, shapes swirling in a dizzying mess of black and moonlit gray. She closes her eyes tight, but that only adds a sickly red to the mix, all the gruesome images returning at once. Nightmares, memories, illusions, sometimes distinct, sometimes indistinguishable…. Her eyes snap back open.

Finally the world stops spinning, and she begins to make out the outline of the walls and furniture - familiar, commonplace. Her ragged breathing is the only thing that disturbs the silence until the sheets next to her abruptly shift, nearly making her jump.

“Velvet?” Eleanor is propped up on her elbows, her voice thick and confused. “Are you all right?”

Velvet takes a deep breath. Suddenly realizing how dry her mouth is, she swallows.

“…I’ll be fine,” she manages to say.

She’s startled again by an arm tightening across her lap, and looks down at her other side. Magilou is still laying stretched out in a tangle of hair and sheets, but her eyes are as sharp as ever.

“She’s asking how you are  _now_ , my dimwitted dove,” the witch says.

Velvet frowns and doesn’t reply. Her throat feels tight and the room too cold.

“It’s okay,” Eleanor says softly, sitting up. “We know.”

Magilou only chuckles. Usually Velvet would find the sound grating, but at the moment she can’t quite bite back the appreciation that bubbles up in her chest.

Eleanor’s arm slides around her back, and she presses their shoulders together. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Suddenly Magilou is up too, scooting back to lean against Velvet in a much less innocuous way.

“Or would you rather we  _help you forget_?” she asks in a low voice. The wiggling of her eyebrows isn’t subtle at all, and Velvet pushes her away.

“I'd  _rather_  you stop taking up the entire bed. You’re the smallest, you don’t get half the blankets.”

“Yes, I second that,” Eleanor says, reaching across Velvet to help unravel the sheets from Magilou’s limbs. “It’s getting cold over here.”

Freed, Magilou flops her whole body down, making the mattress bounce. “Guess you’ll have to snuggle closer then, dear~”

“Or _you_ could sleep on the floor,” Velvet mutters, but spreads the blankets back across all three of them. Magilou wastes no time in draping herself up Velvet’s side and returning her arm to its place across her stomach. On the other side of the bed, Eleanor has made herself comfortable with her cheek resting against Velvet’s shoulder.

Magilou’s fingers ghost over Velvet’s waist, half teasing and half tickling. “Sure you just wanna go back to sleep? I can always cheer you up first…” she offers with a wink.

Velvet wrenches her arm up just harshly enough to give Magilou a good elbow to the gut, before extracting it and settling it around the witch’s back. Magilou grumbles something, but doesn’t move away.

“Some of us have to work in the morning,” Eleanor says, eyes already closed, “and would appreciate an opportunity to get some sleep.”

Magilou rolls her eyes. Velvet leans over to touch her cheek to the top of Eleanor’s head.

“Sorry I woke you,” she murmurs.

She can feel Eleanor smile against her shoulder before she breathes back, “Don’t worry about that.”

“At least you didn’t try to choke anyone this time,” Magilou puts in cheerfully.

“That’s not funny, Magilou.” Eleanor glares across Velvet’s collarbones.

Magilou gives the bare minimum of a shrug. “Didn’t say it was.”

Still, when Magilou’s hand removes itself from Velvet’s waist and rummages around to find Eleanor’s fingers, Eleanor doesn’t let go.

Velvet lays her head back and closes her eyes again, relieved to find nothing but soft darkness there. The bed is warm, and the room is still. Judging by the quiet, rhythmic breaths against her neck, Eleanor might already be asleep. Magilou almost certainly isn’t; she always seems to be awake when someone else is. To check, Velvet gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and Magilou tilts her head to nuzzle against Velvet's chest, making a sound almost like a purr.

“Sleep well, Vel my belle,” she whispers.

Velvet sighs. At any other time she might be tempted to remove herself from this circus to get some real peace and quiet… but right now, she thinks she’ll stay right where she is. She gets the feeling her next dream will be a lot sweeter.


End file.
